


things we should learn from the stars

by imposterhuman



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Tony Stark, Based on a Poem, Civil War Team Iron Man, Extremis Tony, Gen, Healing, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, Infinity Gauntlet, IronStrange, M/M, Moving On, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Steve Friendly, Other, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Stars, Tony Feels, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony has a heart, Tony-centric, not team Cap friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 17:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17687669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imposterhuman/pseuds/imposterhuman
Summary: "things we should learn from the stars:1) you will burn. but this pyre of yours will light an entire galaxy. is it destruction if it’s creation, too?2) collapse unto yourself. it doesn’t matter. yesterday is light years away and it’s cold can’t touch you now. tomorrow is when you shine.3) the explosion will shatter your bones and no one will hear a sound. it is alright, starsdie quietly, too. but they get up every single time.4) like stars, burn brighter after you rise.5) (always rise)6) the universe is a dark and vast place but there’s always light. find it. if you can’t find it, be that light.7) make sure that the whole universe knows just how beautiful you are when you decideto survive."after the civil war, tony decides to survive





	things we should learn from the stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daniela_is_not_amused](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daniela_is_not_amused/gifts).
  * Inspired by [This we should learn from the stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17592326) by [Daniela_is_not_amused](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daniela_is_not_amused/pseuds/Daniela_is_not_amused). 



> based on daniela_is_not_amused's wonderful work and lana rafaela's poem (in the summary and italics in the body of the fic)
> 
> this turned out way longer than i meant for it to, but i hope yall like it!

_ 1) you will burn. but this pyre of yours will light an entire galaxy.  _

_ is it destruction if it’s creation, too? _

 

Siberia was cold. Tony, logically, knew that before going, but it’s one thing to see -30 degrees Fahrenheit on the HUD of a heated suit and another to feel it when the last of the suit’s power drained away. Laying on the cold concrete, blood seeping through the cracks in his armor, Tony found himself remembering the last time someone broke his heart like this. At least Afghanistan had been warm.

 

Tony tried to stay awake, to fight against the growing darkness creeping through his vision, but he couldn’t. With every blink, it was harder and harder to force his eyes open again. And what was the point? He ruined everything he touched. Wouldn’t it be better if he just… stopped?

 

_ This was your fault,  _ his mind hissed.  _ If you had kept your head, none of this would’ve happened. Of course Rogers chose Barnes! What did you expect? _

 

Tony raised one of his heavy metal arms, fumbling for the manual release latches on the suit. The metal was just leeching heat from his body; there was no point in staying in it. At least the bunker was providing cover against the wind. Tony screamed as he pulled the chestplate away from him, the snarled metal catching in his flesh. Blood started flowing in earnest, warm against his icy skin. He could feel broken ribs shifting as he moved to lean on the wall. His breath was coming out in short pants. When he coughed, the burning agony in his chest brought blood into his throat. 

 

He hoped his death would have some effect, that it wouldn’t be for naught. The Accords could be pushed with him as a martyr. They wouldn’t be as good as he wanted, but Pepper and Rhodey had all of his notes and double his common sense. They would fix things. His will was up to date (he had updated it on the flight to Siberia in a stunning display of foresight). Everyone would be taken care of. The world could rest easy without Tony Stark.

 

Tony closed his eyes in the destroyed bunker. If he ignored the pain and the cold and the memories, he could almost pretend he was back home in the Tower. Irrationally, he found himself wishing he could blow a hole in the bunker’s walls. He would’ve liked to see the stars one last time.

He had always thought he’d die in a blaze of glory. There, with the imprint of a shield on his chest and the cold in his veins, he wondered why he’d ever thought he was destined for anything but the iciness of betrayal.

 

_ 2) collapse unto yourself. it doesn’t matter. yesterday is light years away and _

_ it’s cold can’t touch you now. tomorrow is when you shine. _

 

Tony didn’t wake up, even when Vision came and rescued him. He didn’t wake up on the plane, where the doctors told Vision there was nothing they could do. Not when Pepper and Rhodey’s anguished screams filled the hospital when Vision brought him there. Not when FRIDAY, sweet, clever FRIDAY, sent a suit carrying a vial of the Extremis virus and all of Tony’s notes on his safe version and the arc reactor to power it, and not when they debated whether or not to use it.

 

“We have to do it,” Pepper said, eyes stained red with unshed tears. She was barely holding it together. When Tony woke up- and he would, he couldn’t leave her, not like this- she’d make her usual quip about job hunting and cry in his arms later. For now, though, she had to be strong. Tony needed her. She’d seen him broken before, seen him beaten down and riddled with holes, but she’d never seen him like his (not when she recognized the arc of the slash on Tony’s broken suit. Not when she saw the video playing softly in the background of the otherwise-silent scene in that bunker). She had to be strong, because he shouldn’t have to be.

 

Rhodey shifted in his wheelchair. “What are his chances without it?” he asked, anxiously wringing his hands.

 

“Exceptionally low,” Vision replied gravely. The android was in turmoil of a sort he didn’t know he had the capacity to feel. His creator was laying in the bed, still as death, and he was useless. He couldn't heal him, couldn’t go back in time and go with him to Siberia. He knew, logically, that this wasn’t his fault; he didn’t make Barnes and Rogers leave Tony, but he felt the same guilt as if he had. “He won’t ever heal; the frostbite alone could render him an invalid. The internal injuries will make it so he can never be Iron Man again, even if he worked around the frostbite. If he doesn’t die, he’ll wish he did.”

 

“And with it?”

 

Vision looked at the data FRIDAY was helpfully projecting. “A full recovery, provided the virus takes hold. He can’t get worse.”

 

“Do it,” Rhodey said, voice hard. “I’m not losing my brother.”  _ Not again _ went unspoken. Rhodey had spent too many days in hospital rooms, waiting to hear news about Tony since MIT, when the man was a scrawny fourteen year-old with a sharp tongue and a heavy heart. He and Tony had discussed Extremis exactly once; Tony had been sleep-deprived after the Mandarin incident, reworking Extremis to cure Pepper. He hadn’t left his lab in days, working nonstop on tinkering and testing the virus. When he had finally emerged, he had hugged Rhodey so tight Rhodey had thought his bones would break.

 

“I did it,” he had whispered, eyes bright. Rhodey had hugged him back, cheering. After he had fed Tony and sent the man to take a shower, they lounged on the couch. Tony had gotten subdued again, deep in thought.

 

“It could help a lot of people,” he had whispered, manipulating a hologram with idle fingers. “It’s a cure for a lot of things. The only problem is how much power it consumes. That’s why people kept exploding, you know? I cracked it- the arc reactor is a feasible power source.”

 

Rhodey had shaken his head. “It isn’t sustainable,” he had said. “It’s a last resort, if anything else.”

 

Tony had met his eyes, serious in a way the man almost never was. “If I’m dying,” he had said, unwavering. “Don’t use it. Let me go. I just, I cause so much  _ pain _ , no matter what I do…” he had broken off into sobs. Rhodey had brought him in close to comfort him, patting his back and wiping his tears. He never promised.

 

_ Better to ask forgiveness than permission _ , Rhodey thought of one of Tony’s favorite phrases. 

 

Pepper went to get a doctor as Rhodey and Vision stared at their broken family member. Tony still didn’t wake up.

 

He woke up when the fire raced through his bones, chasing away every vestige of cold, though. 

 

_ 3) the explosion will shatter your bones and no one will hear a sound. it is alright, stars _

_ die quietly, too. but they get up every single time. _

 

Extremis was fire. 

 

It burned his body, reducing him to ashes and dust. Each vein filled with flames, each bone cracked with the heat. His skin blackened and split, fire dancing over it. Tony couldn’t breathe through the pain, worse than anything he’d ever felt. He couldn’t scream; Extremis had scorched his vocal cords. He burned in silence, in darkness, alone.

 

Tony was pretty sure he was dead and this was hell. His body was lit with hellfire. It was the only explanation his addled brain could think of. All of his repentance was for nothing in the end. He had been doomed for too long to ever be saved. 

 

The fire wouldn’t abate, but it changed. Instead of breaking him, the fire remade him. It reforged connections, teaching his body to exist again. He could feel his fingers, his toes, every nerve was alight. Tony felt his mind return and then  _ keep coming _ . Knowledge was at his fingertips, things he couldn’t have known just a hair's breadth away. He felt too big for his body and too small all at once. His skin was ill fitting, so Extremis burned it away. It rebuilt him out of hope and wisdom and fire, making him stronger than before. 

 

When Tony finally woke up, it was with a jolt and a sharp breath. There was no pain, not anymore. His mind was whirling, trying to absorb everything about  _ living  _ that he could. 

 

_ No one appreciates living like the dead,  _ he thought wryly. 

 

At his bedside, Pepper, brave, beautiful Pepper, rested fitfully on Rhodey’s shoulder. Rhodey, his Honey Bear, his brother, looked terrible, but his hand was strong where it clutched Tony’s like a lifeline. Vision stood in the corner, watching. His eyes were filled with a terrible silence that Tony wouldn’t have wished on anyone, much less his son. 

 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Sir,” Vision said in JARVIS’s voice. Tony’s heart clenched painfully at the reminder. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I’m twenty,” Tony replied honestly. “What happened?”

 

Vision grimaced, the expression out of place on his synthetic face. “Extremis,” he said. “You were dying; frostbite had claimed both of your hands and feet, as well as your nose and ears. Internal injuries would’ve killed you before those could have too much of an effect; you had punctures in both lungs from several broken ribs. Your sternum was completely destroyed. With Extremis, we made a choice. I will not apologize for saving my creator.”

 

Tony absorbed the information silently. “Okay,” he said finally. Vision was visibly relieved. “I didn’t want this. I wanted to die human, you know? I’m- well, I guess I  _ was _ \- proud of being baseline human, nothing special.” He smiled sadly. “But I know why you did it. I would’ve done the same for any of you in a heartbeat. And I’m not going to waste this second chance.”  _ Not like I did my first.  _

 

“You’re handling this remarkably well, Sir,” said Vision cautiously. “Are you…”

 

“Freaking out?” Tony asked. “Yes. Unequivocally yes. But if I start screaming now I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

 

Next to him, Rhodey woke up, disturbed by their voices. “Tones,” he whispered, dragging a shaking hand over Tony’s face. “You’re alive.”

 

“All in one piece, Honey Bear,” Tony didn’t try to hide the wetness in his voice, not in front of Rhodey. Rhodey, who had been there since MIT, had seen him at his worst and chosen to stay. “With upgrades!”

 

“I’m not going to apologize,” Rhodey warned. “And I’ll kick your ass if you try to fight me on it. You were  _ dying _ , Tones. I couldn’t lose you.”

 

Tony leaned forward to hug Rhodey. “Thank you,” he said softly, his embrace saying everything he couldn’t.  _ Thank you for seeing someone worth saving _ . “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

 

“There better be one of those for me,” Pepper’s voice was hoarse and weak, with sleep and tears, but it was there. 

 

Tony turned to look at her. Her eyes were red and swollen with tears. 

 

“Those tears for me, Miss Potts?” he asked, like he always did. It was their little ritual, their  _ I’m okay, I’m back, don’t worry.  _

 

“Yes,” Pepper admitted, breaking their pattern. She looked gutted. 

 

Wordlessly, Tony enfolded her in the hug. She sobbed unashamedly into his shoulder, Rhodey doing the same on his other side. Tony made eye contact with Vision, gesturing him over. The four of them huddled on Tony’s hospital bed, healing in each other’s presence. 

 

Tony was alive,  _ reborn _ , and he wasn’t going to waste it. 

 

_ 4) like stars, burn brighter after you rise. _

 

_ 01001000 01100101 01101100 01101100 01101111 00101100 00100000 01000010 01101111 01110011 01110011.  _ FRIDAY’s code brushed against his mind.  _ Hello, Boss. _

 

Tony almost wept right then and there, feeling his youngest child’s presence like she was standing next to him.

 

_ 01001000 01100101 01111001 00101100 00100000 01100010 01100001 01100010 01111001 00100000 01100111 01101001 01110010 01101100. _ Tony replied, overcome with emotion.  _ Hey, baby girl. _

 

His technopathy was only one of the notable changes that Extremis had made to him. He was also younger, his wrinkles and grey hair erased. Every ache and pain from age and injuries that healed wrong had gone away, leaving him in the same condition he was in in his twenties, minus the liver damage. Rhodey had bitched about it to no end, complaining about being the only one in their group with wrinkles (Pepper had the skin of a goddess and Vision was an android), but he could see the relief in his Platypus’s eyes when he touched Tony’s healed skin, not even a scar left behind.

 

The worst part of Extremis, though, was his eyes.

 

Tony had always had his mother’s eyes. They were whiskey-brown, expressive. Howard had hated them, forcing sunglasses on Tony to hide them before every press conference or camera appearance. Tony, having nothing else of his mother’s, had loved them. 

 

Extremis turned them arc reactor blue, all traces of his mother gone. When he was calm, they were like any other blue eyes, if a bit deeper and otherworldly. When he was angry, the glowed blinding blue. He had to hide them behind sunglasses to avoid hurting people’s eyes.

 

He often had to wear sunglasses at Accords meetings, where he pushed through proposals until he shaped the documents into what he wanted them to be. His first order of business? Get Ross put in prison. It didn’t take much; the man was a monster, really. Tony found enough within minutes of digging to send him away for life. 

 

With Ross out of the picture, the Accords were a lot more pliant. Tony bulldozed through clauses that were too strict, that came too close to total control, reshaping them the way he  _ always said he would.  _ Bitter resentment choked him, sometimes, when he succeeded and remembered the doubt of his old “team”. 

 

After his latest set of amendments passed almost unanimously, the stupid, outdated phone Rogers had sent along with his bullshit letter rang with a text. Tony didn’t read it. He had been busy that afternoon, setting up meetings for the foundations of a new Avengers team. Rhodey had tapped a Major Carol Danvers to lead it, which, upon reading her honest to god  _ resume _ , Tony was more than inclined to agree with. There were others, a magician, Hope van Dyne, of all people, and, of course, Spider Boy. With them, Tony could see the foundations of something that wasn’t a ticking time bomb. With them, Tony saw hope.

 

Tony vowed that it wouldn’t be like the last team, a dictatorship with no accountability or responsibility. They wouldn’t ignore the suffering that their damages caused, they wouldn’t accept collateral as necessary. This team would be  _ better.  _

 

_ 5) (always rise) _

 

The day that Tony got news of the pardons was a Wednesday afternoon. He had spent the day in the lab, trying to make Bleeding Edge even better than it was. He had been connected to FRIDAY, chatting idly while he worked when he felt her shudder of revulsion as she got the news.

 

The Rogues were coming back.

 

The panic gripped Tony like a vise, even as Extremis controlled his reaction. His breathing didn’t change, his heart didn’t race, but his mind couldn’t stop whirling. FRIDAY’s gentle reassurances couldn’t snap him out of it, try as she might. The fear was all-encompassing. It tasted like blood in a Siberian bunker, felt like the snapping of ribs. It was red and cold and  _ everywhere and- _

 

Rhodey's hand on his shoulder was a steadying presence. 

 

“Hey,” Rhodey soothed, well-practiced from over thirty years of comfort. Even without his tells, Rhodey knew when Tony was upset. “They can’t hurt you again. I won’t let them.”

 

Tony turned his hands in his lap, feeling Extremis’s burn under his skin. “I know,” he said softly. He forced himself to keep talking instead of choking down his fears like he used to. “What if I can’t stop them this time?”

 

“We,” Rhodey corrected. “You’re not alone, Tones. They can’t do anything to you or any of us. Pepper’s planning to drown them in lawsuits the minute they set foot on US soil and Happy has guaranteed bad service for them from every driver in the city. Strange has warded the place to hell and back and FRIDAY’s fully updated.  _ We’re safe _ .”

 

“I know,” Tony repeated hollowly. He rested his head against Rhodey’s chest, his friend’s heartbeat reassuring him. Quietly, barely above a breath, he admitted, “I don’t want them here.”

 

“Me neither,” Rhodey said. There were no meaningless platitudes, not from his brother. Rhodey and Tony both knew that not wanting something meant next to nothing in the grand scheme of things; it would happen or it wouldn’t, they just had to deal with it.

 

Tony blinked away the little bit of wetness that had gathered in his eyes. He pushed off of Rhodey, letting his hands and eyes convey his thanks (he never was good at words). “So, I had an idea for your braces,” he said, pulling a hologram into existence.

 

Rhodey’s naked excitement would never get old, Tony thought as he drew them both into the joy of creation. It lit up Rhodey’s face, making him look years younger and reminding Tony of  _ before _ , when everything was still simple.

 

(Rhodey thought the same. Even though his age was all but erased, Tony’s eyes were older than they should be, older than he’d ever been. Little things, like updating DUM-E without having to disassemble him, made him look a little less burdened by time. He knew he’d do anything to keep Tony smiling like that, even if he had to put on the suit to beat up a couple of assholes. His brother was worth all that and more.)

 

Tony put the thoughts of the Rogues out of his mind. They were coming, yes, but he wasn’t going to let them hurt him like they used to. He was a mess of scar tissue and parts that didn’t fit quite right, but he was healed and they weren’t going to break him down again. He smiled, and it wasn’t strained or hiding something. It was just a smile.

 

_ 6) the universe is a dark and vast place but there’s always light. find it. _

_ if you can’t find it, be that light. _

 

“Hey, Tony,” Stephen greeted, portalling into the lab. “How are you?”

 

Even after months of being teammates, Stephen’s genuine care felt as novel as it did the first time. It always made Tony blush a little (or, it would’ve, if Extremis didn’t control that reaction like it did the rest of his tells. He had to make a conscious effort to stop it from doing that, which he didn’t bother with around friends). 

 

“Shitty,” he admitted. “Rogers, he, um, he cornered me today.” 

 

Stephen’s stare darkened, fingers twitching like he ached to cast a spell. “Oh, did he?” he asked, voice carefully neutral. “What did he want?”

 

“To talk,” Tony scoffed. “He wanted to know why my eyes were blue, now.”

 

“Did you tell him?” Stephen’s questions didn’t feel like an interrogation, the way the Rogues’ used to. They were underlaid with concern rather than suspicion, which made all the difference. 

 

“That leaving someone for dead in Siberia leaves a mark?” Tony’s eyes flared angrily in remembrance. “Vehemently.”

 

“Good,” Stephen’s smile was more a baring of teeth, dangerously protective of Tony. Tony smiled back as Stephen sat down on the bench next to him. “What are you working on?”

 

“Braces,” Tony pulled up a projection with his mind, the blue glowing like a nebula. “For fine motor function.” He looked down nervously, not wanting to see Stephen’s reaction. He wasn’t sure if his intervention was welcomed, but Rhodey’s braces had given him  _ ideas  _ and he made Stephen’s almost unconsciously, Extremis doing most of the drafting work before he realized he had a solid idea.

 

Stephen took a sharp breath. With one shaking finger, he tilted Tony’s chin up to him. Meeting Tony’s eyes with his green-blue gaze, he said softly, “Thank you.”

 

Tony didn’t bother to hide the blush, that time, brain too busy with a feedback loop of  _ shit, he’s hot. _

 

Stephen leaned in for a kiss. Tony closed his eyes and all he could see were sparks.

 

(As it turned out, Stephen’s magic acted up when he was very emotional, creating a lot of fireworks for their first kiss. Tony had laughed until he cried at Stephen’s put-out expression.)

 

\---

 

Harley was overprotective of Tony. It was one of the facts of the universe. The sky is blue, grass is green, and Harley has a potato gun and isn’t afraid to use it on anyone who hurts his mechanic. Hell, Tony had received some potatoes for self-deprecating comments. Harley took no prisoners.

 

With Peter in the mix, it only got worse. Peter was there for the Civil War fallout, had seen Tony try to control Extremis and fry countless appliances. He had also seen the panic attacks; periods of unnatural stillness where Tony barely breathed but was completely unresponsive (Peter and Harley actually had a protocol in place for them, which was more helpful than Tony could ever have imagined. Harley and Peter snuggles were wonderful deterrents for panic). 

 

Harley and Peter had made some sort of unholy potato-web-gun  _ thing  _ that they used the threaten the Rogues when they first arrived. Romanov hadn’t looked that scared, but all it took was one volley and she was as suitably terrified as the rest. The pair capitalized on that fear, making themselves at home in common spaces just to glare, leaving potatoes in bedrooms (they were a little weird, Tony could admit), and so on. 

 

When Rogers tried to talk to him  _ again  _ after his disastrous first attempt (Tony had torn him a new one in front of his entire team, because the idiot had brought them along for “support”), Harley and Peter were there as his backup. They wouldn’t let him alone with any of the Rogues, even as he tried to usher them out (even though he wasn’t going anywhere  _ alone and as a friend  _ ever again, he didn’t trust the Rogues with his kids. He’d rather face all of them alone and suitless than put his kids in harm's way).  

 

“Tony,” Rogers pleaded as Tony refused to turn around and talk to him.

 

“I’m busy,” Tony snapped. “Make an appointment.”

 

“He’s booked,” Harley said angrily.

 

“Forever,” Peter chimed in.

 

“Thank you, peanut gallery,” Tony said fondly, electric blue eyes softening. “We have nothing to talk about, Rogers.”

 

“Why did you do this to yourself?” Rogers sounded impossibly sad. “You were always so proud of being… human.”

 

Tony spun around with a snarl. “You think I fucking chose this?”

 

“Language,” said Rogers weakly. 

 

“Eat a dick,” Tony spat. “You think I did this to myself? I was  _ dead _ . I couldn’t choose, because I  _ couldn’t fucking wake up.  _ I told you before, you broke my suit and my chest and then  _ left me  _ in subzero temperatures. It was Extremis or a coffin. I didn’t choose.”

 

Rogers blanched. “Tony… I- I didn’t know.”

 

Before Tony could pop that little balloon, one of his kids’ unassuming potatoes flew at Rogers’s face with extreme speed and more than one spark of magic. It hit him, shock overriding the super soldier reflexes. At once, Rogers went down like a sack of, well, potatoes. 

 

Tony sighed loudly. “Do I want to know what you did to that?” he asked.

 

“Not in the slightest.”

 

Tony laughed, feeling lighter than ever, hugging his kids close.

 

\---

 

More mornings than not, Tony woke up happy. There were still nights haunted by terrors, by dreams of caves and wormholes and all encompassing cold, but they were few and far between. When the nightmares came, though, his family was at his side. Rhodey and Pepper brought trashy movies, Vision brought his latest cooking experiment, Peter and Harley brought cuddles, and Stephen brought kisses. They huddled together on the sofa, warming him up as ice chilled his veins and metal cut him open. When he fell asleep again, though, he was warm and safe. 

 

Tony had gotten in the habit of waking up early to watch the sun rise, taking peace in the quiet of the morning. He’d never appreciated it before, spending most of his time underground in his lab or passed out with the curtains drawn. There was something to be said about the simple beauty of the earth spinning, painting the sky with sunlight.

 

In the morning, Tony stood in the light and realized, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t empty anymore. 

 

_ 7) make sure that the whole universe knows just how beautiful you are when you decide _

_ to survive. _

 

Thanos was  _ exactly  _ the threat Tony had been talking about for years. The titan had brought an army of aliens to retrieve the Infinity Stones on a quest to wipe out half of the universe’s population. If Tony weren’t so damn tired, he’d have said  _ I told you so  _ to everyone who ever called him crazy for predicting  _ exactly this _ (unfortunately, it would take more time than he had in a life). Instead, he settled for beating out his aggression on the aliens, who really didn’t appreciate it.

 

Despite his best efforts, he was only one man. He made Thanos bleed, but it wasn’t enough. The titan took the Time Stone from Stephen in exchange for Tony’s life. Tony screamed at his stupid wizard to  _ stop _ , but the man held firm. When Thanos disappeared, Stephen rushed to Tony’s side to stem the bleeding from his titan-inflicted stab wound.

 

“It was the only way,” he said sadly, brushing cool lips against Tony’s.

 

“Now we have to get it back,” Tony grumbled, trying not to panic too hard. 

 

If possible, Stephen only looked sadder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against Tony’s mouth. Before Tony could ask why, his lover was dust in his hands. Tony wanted to scream, but he had to find Peter, had to make sure he was okay-

 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice wobbled. “I don’t feel so good. I don't wanna go. Please, I don’t wanna go.”

 

Tony rushed to Peter, catching him as he fell. He clung tight, trying to keep him together, to no avail. His kid turned to dust in his arms

 

Tony screamed his rage on a dying planet, screamed his vengeance and his fear until he was empty and drained. He wanted to burn out, he wanted to collapse and finally  _ rest _ , but he rose. Extremis burned away his tears as he stood up robotically, dust clinging in the grooves of his suit. Thanos had won the battle, but he hadn’t won the war. 

 

Tony wasn’t done fighting.

 

\---

 

Their crazy plan had mostly succeeded. Somehow, he, Rogers, Romanov, and some of the other survivors had formed a plan hinged on a series of  _ hopefully _ s and  _ maybe _ s.  _ Maybe  _ they could get all the Infinity Stones and the Gauntlet. They  _ hoped  _ the Gauntlet could bring back the dusted.  _ Maybe  _ one of them could wield it.  _ Hopefully  _ it wouldn’t kill them.

 

When they had the Gauntlet, no one volunteered immediately to use it (especially after seeing the wreck it left behind of Thanos’s arm), not even Rogers. There was a high chance of dying, and Rogers didn’t want to die before he could be reunited (again) with Barnes. 

 

Tony thought about Stephen and Peter, who dissolved into nothingness in the ruins of Titan. He thought about Rhodey’s empty armor, filled with a neat pile of something that had Tony retching on the floor. He thought about Pepper’s empty office, Happy’s empty car, Harley’s empty room. Fifty percent had taken away  _ everything  _ from him. 

 

He had hoped vengeance would help, but killing Thanos did nothing for the pit in his heart. Decimating his armies had only reminded him that he was fighting alone. 

 

“I’ll do it,” he said, eyes dull and broken. “What do I have left to lose?”

 

Rogers flinched at the reminder that he was nothing to Tony, not anymore. “Are you sure?” he asked, pleading in his tone. Tony wasn’t sure what he was pleading for, only that it didn’t matter. His mind was made up.

 

“I am,” he replied, letting Bleeding Edge cover him for the last time, his whole body except for his left hand. 

 

“Good luck,” Romanov said, setting the Gauntlet in front of him. Something in his heart stirred at a memory, a late night explaining  _ why  _ he didn’t like being handed things. She smiled at him, as broken as he felt (Barton was gone, too). 

 

“It was an honor,” Rogers’s voice broke as Tony picked up the Gauntlet.

 

“I’m going somewhere isolated, in case something goes wrong,” said Tony, ignoring Rogers. His wounds had long since scarred over, but he didn’t want to reopen them for the sake of a goodbye. For all intents and purposes, they had said their goodbyes, years ago in a Siberian bunker. “If I’m still… FRIDAY will send coordinates, once it’s done.”

 

FRIDAY, faithful to the end, railed at him in his mind. 

 

_ Don’t leave me, _ she whispered.  _ I don’t want to be alone.  _

 

_ If this works, baby girl,  _ Tony said sadly, forcing his tears away.  _ You won’t be. I love you. _

 

Tony flew away, Gauntlet in his hand but not on it. He landed some time later on a deserted island he owned in the middle of the Atlantic, a remnant of an old life. 

 

“Here goes,” he announced, sliding the Gauntlet on.

 

Instantly, the world was awash with colors and possibilities, like stepping into a supernova. It was bright and loud and it  _ burned _ . 

 

Tony saw the last Game Night he had with his family. They were sitting around the board, Stephen and Rhodey and Pepper and Peter and Harley, beckoning him closer from where he was standing in the doorway of the common room.

 

_ Come,  _ they urged.  _ Stay with us. You can be happy here. Stay with us. _

 

Tony shook off the vision, but another took its place. 

 

_ You can have this,  _ Stephen urged, but his eyes were flat and dead.  _ You can have whatever you want. Just ask. _

 

The Gauntlet was burning on his hand, hurting him faster than Extremis could heal him. He was screaming, he knew, but his dream world was silent but for his family’s urges.

 

_ Stay here,  _ Peter pleaded.  _ Stay here forever.  _

 

Tony knew that if he stayed, if he gave in, that there wouldn’t be another shot. This was his chance to bring everyone back. The Gauntlet, what it showed him… it wasn’t real. His family was  _ dead _ . 

 

Tony’s fist tightened. 

 

_ Bring them back,  _ he ordered.  _ Bring everyone back.  _

 

The Gauntlet pulsed sadly, shooting waves of agony up his arm. 

 

_ Are you sure?  _ It asked.  _ You could have this. _

 

_ Bring. Them. Back. _

 

A rush of light and pain was the last thing he felt, aside from an overwhelming sense of relief. He had succeeded.

 

\---

 

Tony woke to soft light and warmth. He was in a hospital bed, hand tightly wrapped in gauze, surrounded by his family.

 

“ _ We lost _ ,” he sobbed, anguished. If he was in the afterlife and they were there with him, that means he hadn’t brought them back. He-

 

“We won,” Rhodey gripped his hand with surprising tightness, nearly breaking his bones. “You reckless idiot, sacrificing yourself. What were you thinking?”

 

Tony stared at him, uncomprehending. “I’m  _ dead _ ,” he enunciated. “Is this hell? Because I’m pretty sure I didn’t get into heaven.”

 

Pepper made a noise, a half-laugh, half-sob. “Only you would think a hospital is hell. You’re alive and you owe me shoes,” she joked, but her eyes were begging him to believe her.

 

At her side, Stephen reached for him with scarred and shaking hands. That, more than anything else, convinced him this was real. Any sort of heaven would’ve healed a good man like Stephen Strange.

 

“We won?” he asked, scared of the answer.

 

“We won.”

 

Tony wasn’t ashamed to say that he burst into tears.

 

\---

 

Outside of the bubble of Tony’s hospital room, the world went on. Friends and family reformed in the streets. Joyous laughter mixed with crying was the soundtrack of every house. On their lips, though, they all had the same thing to say.

 

_ Tony Stark saved us all. _

 

No one knew what happened to him, besides what the Rogue Avengers had to say; Tony used the Gauntlet to bring everyone back, at great personal risk. No one had heard from him since. Most thought him dead, but some people remembered other impossible odds he beat and refused to believe it. 

 

Regardless, outside of every SI office, flowers, cards, and stuffed Iron Men lined the building. People painted blue circles on their shirt in remembrance. The world waited with bated breath to hear confirmation from anyone associated with Tony, but they were tight lipped. 

 

When night fell, candles lit up the streets in memory of the dead. From the window in Tony’s hospital room, they looked like orange stars, a whole sea of them in what was once a black hole. 

 

After everything it had been through, the world went on, just a little brighter than before.

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts? i was going to kill tony but then i read a fic where he died and it made me sad, so, happy ending!
> 
> lana rafaela is an amazing poet, yall should check her out! and thanks to daniela_is_not_amused for letting me use her premise, i hope i didnt disappoint!
> 
> comments and kudos make me a happy gal


End file.
